


Capitulations

by Gardngoyle



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gardngoyle/pseuds/Gardngoyle
Summary: Iron Bull is new to the group and Blackwall's resolve begins to break.
Relationships: Blackwall/Female Inquisitor
Kudos: 19





	Capitulations

The rain, as it always did on the Storm Coast, came down in sheets. The sun shone through holes in the cloud cover, and yet it poured. Vhenaria, Dorian, Blackwall, and Iron Bull were climbing a horrible hill on a late afternoon.

Dorian was particularly miserable. ‘I can see my breath in the air,’ he complained.

Blackwall chuckled, ‘Hot air? Too easy.’ 

Dorian ignored the jibe, ‘I don’t know how you Southerners stand it. I’m afraid I may never be warm again.’

‘If you didn’t wear silken bedsheets out in the field, you’d be warmer,’ Blackwall quipped. 

‘Pardon me?’ Dorian’s eyes narrowed, ‘Is it wrong to look presentable?’ 

‘Wrong? No.’ Blackwall said looking at the utter ruin of Dorian’s silk cape, ‘Foolish is another question altogether.’

Vhenaria and Iron Bull, followed along just listening. Bull was still relatively new to the Companions and was still getting to know everyone. Vhenaria chuckled at Dorian and Blackwall’s bickering, she knew that they had a deep affection for one another and never minded when they fought. It was a game. Sometimes she even encouraged it. 

'I would like to know how Blackwall knows that Dorian sleeps on silk sheets,’ Bull mused.

‘He’s just guessing,’ Vhenaria said, ‘based on the fact that Dorian never lets anything less than luxury touch his skin.’

‘So there is nothing there?’ Bull’s tone was serious as he gestured at the two men.

‘Between Dorian and Blackwall?’ Vhenaria pitched her voice low so the others couldn’t hear, ‘No. That’s not..’ Vhenaria’s brow furrowed, ‘No. They aren’t a couple.’

‘I’m sorry, I was goading you. It is obvious that Blackwall has feelings for only you,’ Bull replied. His tone matter of fact. ‘But Dorian. You aren’t seeing it?’ Bull asked. 

‘Seeing what?’ Vhenaria asked. 

‘If they were children, Dorian would be pulling Blackwall’s hair and running away,’ Bull smiled. 

For a moment Vhenaria was lost. Then she stopped dead in her tracks and looked up at the two men walking on ahead. Blackwall picked up a stone from the path and flicked it at Dorian. Dorian responded by making it snow just above Blackwall's head. Blackwall suggested a snowball fight and the little blizzard vanished. Vhenaria went back in her mind through all the teasing and practical jokes and she saw it. And she saw that Blackwall was oblivious to it. Bull had stopped next to her and was looking at her closely. ‘I see it now,’ she said to the big Qunari, ‘But on Blackwall’s part it is-’ 

‘Brotherly. Obviously.’

‘Yes,’ Vhenaria replied, ‘and Dorian would be hurt if he thought we suspected.’

Bull grinned at Vhenaria, ‘You couldn’t see it because you are also attracted to Blackwall,’ he looked up the hill, ‘It’s a good match.’

Vhenaria realized there was no point in artifice, ‘Blackwall doesn’t want a relationship with me,’ she said ruefully, ‘He has his reasons.’

‘He has excuses,’ Bull replied starting up the hill again, ‘that he thinks will make a difference to you.’ 

‘You’ve read all of that in only a couple days?’ 

‘I’m Ben-Hassrath. I’m trained to read people.’ Bull smiled broadly, ‘It is an interesting triangle of affections the three of you have. I hope I won’t be in the way.’

As she and Bull approach the other two she could hear that they were still harassing one another. ‘This,’ Blackwall noted, holding out the edge of his cloak, ‘is _wool_. Comes from a sheep. You know what sheep are?’

‘Frightened?’ Dorian replied, deadpan, ‘Is that why you live in a stable, Big Man?’’

Next to Vhenaria, Iron Bull choked back a laugh. ‘Perhaps the beard is a disguise,’ Bull supplied.

‘Bull,’ Vhenaria said with a laugh, ‘you are going to fit in just perfectly.’ 

‘No,’ Blackwall patiently objected, ‘sheep are warm.’

Dorian was thoughtful, ‘Do tell, Blackwall, what kind of blanket do you carry in your bedroll?’

‘Wool,’ Blackwall replied with exaggerated patience, ‘because it’s warm.’

‘So then, you are the one wearing bedclothes.’ Dorian pointed out, almost innocently. 

Blackwall laughed heartily, ‘You’ve got me there, Peacock.’ He rubbed a hand through his wet beard and took a deep bracing breath. 

‘You’re actually enjoying this aren’t you?’ Dorian was aghast.

‘It will make getting back to Skyhold all the more gratifying,’ Blackwall grinned as he reached the top of the hill. “A warm fire. Dry clothes-’ Blackwall stopped abruptly. 

Vhenaria looked to the right and her heart jumped to her throat. A Rage Demon approached from the far side of an Astrarium. She hated these things. Her fear of fire was complete and when she faced a Rage Demon, she just wanted to run. Vhenaria bit back a scream and advanced, but Blackwall and Bull had fully engaged the demon and Dorian was firing cold spells at it from a safe distance. 

By the time Vhenaria had moved close enough to attack, the demon had folded in on itself leaving only a scorched place in the wet grass. The warriors stood over the space, assuring themselves the fight was complete and sheathing their weapons. Dorian, well aware of her fears, touched Vhenaria’s arm. ‘All right, Dove?’ he asked. 

‘Fine,’ she said, nodding and squeezing his hand. Vhenaria looked at the sky. The sun was starting to turn the edges of the clouds gold. ‘We should make camp, before we run across,’ she took a deep breath, ‘any more trouble.’

The rain had abated a little, but it was still fairly miserable. Dorian was instrumental in forcing damp wood to ignite and before long there were two tents set up beside a sputtering fire. Dorian decided to investigate the Astrarium and Bull followed, engaging the mage in amiable conversation. 

Vhenaria wandered away from the camp towards a tall stone monolith. Its edges were rough but there was a tree lovingly carved into the flat face of the monument. She wondered about it. Who would take the time to fashion a thing like this in such an unpleasant and remote place? ‘I know this story,’ Blackwall broke into Vhenaria’s thoughts, startling her.

‘What story?’ she replied, happy for his company. He had been keeping his distance since the Inquisition had moved to Skyhold. The first day at the fortress he had asked her to accompany him to the battlements. She had been eager to go with him, sure that he would finally declare his feelings for her, but instead they had argued. He had been clear. There would be nothing between them. He was a Warden, with all the responsibilities that entailed, and she was The Inquisitor. Blackwall was an Andrastan. He seemed to actually believe she was the Herald. Not exactly the basis for a romance. 

‘It’s called the Resourceful Lovers.’ Blackwall replied.

‘Well, that’s very romantic.’ Vhenaria laughed, ‘Let me guess. They could feed a small town with a soup made from stones or build wings from a wool blanket.’ 

Blackwall chuckled, ‘You are clearly spending too much time with Dorian,’ he said, ‘I’ll admit the title is not very creative, but it makes a good ballad.’ 

‘Will you sing it for me?’ Vhenaria’s said, almost off hand. Despite her light tone, her heart was pounding. Running her fingers over the surface of the stone, Vhenaria moved away from Blackwall, around the edge of the landmark. Out of sight of Dorian and Iron Bull. 

Blackwall followed her absently, ‘It’s a bit involved,’ he said, ‘but I can tell you the important parts.’ He hummed to himself a moment, apparently recalling the words to the song. Vhenaria waited quietly, watching him. His armor had been set aside in the tent he would share with Bull and he was relaxed, leaning against the stone, ‘Galen and Elise were very much in love but their parents did not approve,’ he said, ‘They decided to escape on a ship. Elise disguised herself as a boy so they could sign onto a crew.’ Blackwall was warming to the subject. He hummed again, finding his place in the story, ‘They met here by the Stone Tree, ‘in the light of a quarter moon’ as the story goes, and-’ Blackwall’s brow furrowed as he searched his memory, ‘they shared a quick embrace and headed down to the sea.’ He recited. She could hear him trying to resist singing the words. 

‘And then?’ Vhenaria asked, taking a step towards him. 

‘That depends. If you favor a tragic end, the song ends with them drowning in a storm.’

‘I prefer happy endings,’ Vhenaria said.

‘So do I, but things don’t always work that way,’ Blackwall replied. He gazed vacantly up at the Stone Tree. Vhenaria waited. He did that sometimes. She was sure it had to do with his past. Something he had seen that had been particularly difficult. Blackwall always came back to himself in a moment or two. ‘It's said that lovers who kiss the Stone Tree will be blessed with a long and happy life together,’ he said, reciting again.

‘That is a much better ending,’ Vhenaria said, stepping close to Blackwall. 

He looked at her intently. Even with her hair plastered to the sides of her face and rain dripping from her nose and the points of her ears, she was beautiful. It was, he supposed, the way her eyes sparked when she looked at him. He wanted to kiss her. Every time she was near, he wanted to kiss her. The impulse was becoming more and more difficult to resist. Blackwall had tried desperately to avoid the Inquisitor but she always insisted that she needed his skills on the road. He had pointed out to her that Cassandra was just as capable with a sword as he was, but she would have none of it. ‘Cass doesn’t have your singing voice, and campfire are boring without songs and stories,’ she had said. And that was the end of it. Blackwall wondered, uselessly he knew, if The Iron Bull could sing.

Right now, the Inquisitor was standing so close they were nearly touching and was staring at him expectantly. She wanted him to kiss her. His noble little speech on the Skyhold battlements had fallen on deaf ears. As he knew it would.

She just didn’t understand. She was - not just the Inquisitor - she was The Herald of Andraste. And he, of all the people in Thedas, was the least deserving of the Herald’s attention. Never mind her affection. 

It was too much. Too soon. He had to tell her now. All of it. Who he was. What had happened. Right now before this situation got any further from his control. 

‘Blackwall,’ Vhenaria murmured. He took a breath. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say but it was rendered meaningless when she pulled herself closer to him and gently kissed him. Rational thought was eclipsed by the exquisite touch of her chilled lips on his warm skin. If Blackwall had been unsure of the depth of his feelings before, he was positive of them now. And more certain than ever that this was a bad idea. 'I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,' Vhenaria said moving her body against Blackwall’s and raising her hands to touch his face. 

Blackwall grabbed her hands and stopped her, ‘Inquisitor,’ he began.

Vhenaria felt her whole body tense. _Not this again,_ she thought. ‘Please don’t call me that.’ Despite her efforts her voice was strained. Vhenaria dropped her hands, but Blackwall didn’t let them go. She took a breath, ‘I thought we were past this,’ she said pulling one hand away. Her heart was heavy in her chest. ‘I - I’m sorry, I’m not being fair,’ she said, ‘to either of us. I’ll leave you at Skyhold from now on.’ Vhenaria could feel tears of frustration stabbing at her eyes. She needed to get away from him before she embarrassed herself any further, but he was still holding her hand, now in both of his. If he wanted to be rid of her why wouldn’t he let go? 'I thought I was-’

‘My Lady,’ Blackwall pulled her back into the circle of his arms and kissed her deeply. The warmth of his lips spread through her whole body. The very soles of her bare feet tingled. ‘You are,’ he whispered. His beard, softer than she expected, brushed her cheek, ‘My Lady.’ He was so warm, Vhenaria couldn’t get close enough to him. And then she realized her back was against the Stone Tree. Blackwall looked at her in the last gold rays of the sun that peeked through the clouds, his fingers outlined the tattoo on her face, and he kissed her again, tipping her head back and tracing his lips down her chin. 

Blackwall stopped abruptly, touched his forehead to hers and sighed. He could feel her tight grip on the back of his gambeson, she wasn’t going to let him pull away. ‘I still don’t think this is a good idea.’

Vhenaria reached up and placed her first two fingers against his lips. ‘I don’t care. Whatever happens we’ll face it together.’

He would tell her now. Just say the words, ‘I’m not-,’ he took her hand from his face and held it tightly in his. This was the most perfect moment of his life and he was going to destroy it like he had destroyed so much before. ‘I’m not the man you think I am.’ Blackwall said, closing his eyes, ‘I-’

‘You are brave and strong and loyal. You have proven yourself time and time again. You put everyone else before yourself. I’ve told myself a thousand times to let you go. Instead my feelings for you only grow.’

Blackwall kissed the tips of her fingers. He knew he should tell her, but once again she had worn down his resolve. He was so afraid of hurting her. His feelings for her overwhelmed him. Blackwall looked Vhenaria straight in the eye, ‘I have nothing to give you, My Lady, but myself. I will stay by your side and keep you safe, for as long as I can.’

‘That’s more than enough, Blackwall,’ Vhenaria replied, kissing him again, ‘You are more than enough.’ 


End file.
